Hacker x Hacker
by PureWaterLily
Summary: The city of Franciscosan is hosting the 287th Hacker Exam. This year has some peculiar applicants, including a bratty little runaway and a simple-minded country girl.
1. The x Hacker x Exam

**A/N:** Hello new fandom! I am Lily and this is my first attempt at a HxH fanfiction. Although I'm still in the process of trying to understand the nuances of the world and characters, I've pretty much fallen in love with the show. Too many ideas bombarded me, and I knew I needed to write something before I exploded of fangirlism. That said, I've only gone up to episode 55 of the 2011 version (and chapter 60 of the manga). So no spoilers please, ahaha!

.

Trains bullet down the subway tunnels, the underground station uncomfortably sticky with humidity. Within the crowds of commuters is one group louder than the rest.

"This is crazy. We'll never get to the bar in time." The complainer checks his watch again before tilting back his head in defeat. "It's not even rush hour!"

"It's because of the exam," informs his much more collected companion, her eyes never leaving her game of DigiMon Go. "Uper and Pikk rates are probably surging too."

Amongst them is a freckled fellow, sidestepping to an awkward gap freed by the flow of pedestrians. "Say, why don't you and Dhruv compete?" He nods towards the burly one between them. "You guys are the best coders in class after Yushin and maybe C.J. Worth a shot!"

"Of tequila, maybe," scoffs the DigiMon player. "Tech geniuses fly in from across the world, yet barely a handful pass. Even the top Stanvard and MiTech students get swatted like flies. No offense, but you don't stand a chance."

Grumbles follow, as well as some sagged shoulders. Soon, they drop the topic in favor of local news and politics, unaware of the blue eyes observing them from behind.

She sits on one of the platform benches, sneakers battered and the sleeves of her turtleneck discolored from dirt. The size difference between her and the nearby adults is comical, the contrast sharpened by her behavior, a dry dispassion that blends effortlessly with all the sleep-deprived students and jaded businessmen. She camouflages well, so well that not one of the hundreds of pedestrians has realized that she is only twelve.

Twelve, unsupervised, and five thousand miles away from home. Just the way Killua Zoldyck likes it.

The group has lost her interest, her gaze turning to the phone in her palm. On a whim, she performs a Uoogre search. The hype appears to be real, with plenty of news and blog coverage regarding some HxH exam.

The official exam homepage, however, is bare. There is nothing except for a background of two black crosses and a digital countdown at the bottom. There is nowhere to scroll. There is nothing to click. For ninety percent of exam applicants, this page is their dead-end.

Lazily, Killua taps once, twice. Her thumb zigzags across the keyboard, before she concludes with another tap.

The black crosses swivel to become crosshairs on a map.

A kick, and she flips to her feet, skateboard tucked under her arm. The chattering group never notices her pass by, only increases volume at the screech of another incoming DART train. They blithely remain in place, while she sets off to the starting location of the 287th Hacker Examination.


	2. So x It x Begins

Located in the southeastern corner of Franciscosan is an artificial peninsula known as Hunters-Bay. Originally a naval shipyard, the area now serves as a refuge for impoverished families and immigrant workers, the air heavy with pollution and streets damp with urine. Each building is more decrepit than the next, and not the friendliest of eyes stare out from every corner. To reach the destination, applicants are expected to complete a binary game, then seek out a navigator to guide them safely through the neighborhood.

Killua decides that is too bothersome and settles for the scenic path instead. Hands pocketed, she swerves on her skateboard, passing the rusted gates and wall graffiti and abandoned needles, the faces of each man and woman. Some of them are watching her, but she is going too fast to be any victim of harassment.

Her phone buzzes. She looks around, and an abandoned condominium catches her attention. It is large enough to host several hundred people, yet also the last place anyone would suspect to look. Grinning, she kickflips across a puddle and halts before the steps, skateboard back in her grip.

The elevator creaks. It comes to a shaking stop at the fourth floor, where a crowd is gathered in the atrium. Killua joins them, noting the change in atmosphere, the concentration of wealth and luxury, intellect and ambition.

"Welcome!"

On the monitor of the registration station is a cartoon bean. Killua pauses, but then decides she has nothing to risk giving them her real name. One ENTER later, there is the fall of a button in the dispenser. 99.

Her eyes fall on the people again, some resting against the walls, others busy at their laptops. So these are the other ninety-eight.

"Hey there!"

Killua tilts her head at the mid-aged woman, before returning an equally bright smile.

"Hi, is this the Hacker Exam?"

"You bet!" An outheld hand. "Tonpa. Nice to meet you."

Tonpa reminds Killua of those school teachers on television, the ones who have trained themselves to be overly-approachable to children. Whether real teachers are like this, Killua would not know.

Over the next hour or so, Tonpa informs Killua more about the exam, including details regarding the other applicants in the room. She is also not shy in revealing her veteran status, of which Killua responds with star-struck awe.

Awe at how bored she is already. Despite knowing the applicants, Tonpa only speaks about them from a distance. Similarly, the other veterans ignore her. Only an idiot would not see the red flags.

Nonetheless, Killua upholds their pretense. Whatever to help pass time.

When their conversation is no longer enough, Killua takes out her phone. She blinks at the red warning. Well, that's unfortunate.

"Oh, out of juice?"

Killua gives a nervous laugh.

Tonpa examines Killua's Gynoid, before shuffling through her purse. "Here."

The dangling phone charger mesmerizes Killua as a string would a cat.

With her phone now connected to a power source, Killua plops on the floor, free to indulge in endless games of Vegetable Samurai.

Meanwhile, Tonpa hides her chuckle. Unbeknownst to her latest victim, in her purse are different chargers for all models of laptops, tablets, and phones. Each are counterfeits designed to mimic the official brands.

Any technology expert knows to avoid counterfeits, for both power quality and user safety. However, counterfeits, while suboptimal, are not necessarily all bad. They may even be a savior for people in desperate need of a charge.

Tonpa banks on that desperation. Prior to the exam, she took the shoddy construction of phony chargers and made further modifications, including switching out the dione bridge and clamp circuits. She then inserted them into the shells of the officials, alongside dead weights, to fool even the most cautious eye. The final design is one that looks authentic but is so unstable, any device will be fried within minutes.

To strip a techie of their personal device is to strip them of their ability to function. It does not matter if the proctors will provide them standard equipment later; the distraught alone is enough to fatally cripple the applicant for the rest of the exam. As self-declared "rookie-crusher", Tonpa bathes in that anguish.

Unfortunately, the other newcomers have managed to avoid her trap. Nicola, 187, is a young pompous girl of the Oxbridge flavor. She has done her research, if not too much. Then there is Hanae, 294, who despite her talkative and bubbly demeanor, displays a high level of discretion. 301 is not even physically present. Tonpa sweats. Remoters are on a whole other level, to have infiltrated the HxH system for online registration.

To Tonpa's delight, three final rookies step out of the elevator before the deadline. The first looks like your stereotypical urban professional, complete with briefcase and tie. By her side is an androgynous teenager, well-mannered and soft spoken. In front is a child.

This child is… bizarre. Tonpa raises an eyebrow at the retro clothing and fishing rod. Nonetheless, the child, Gon, is as naive as her countenance suggests. Tonpa easily gains her trust.

"Here, charge up!"

"Ooh, thank you, ma'am!"

Kurapika is accepting a charger too when a loud crackle has her in alarm. Leorio also stops, shades lopsided at the steam hissing from Gon's phone.

"It died," Gon says, eyes wide.

Tonpa sweats. The charger is not supposed to act that fast. Still, a success is a success, even if she has lost the other two.

Kurapika narrows her eyes in suspicion, almost as if she can x-ray the interior. "This is not of the proper manufacturer, is it?"

"Oh my, oh my, I'm so sorry!" Tonpa feigns distress. "I never thought my chargers would be knock-offs. Please forgive me!"

Her act is interrupted by a _clank_. Gon walks away from the trash can. "No need for an apology." Her voice is as upbeat as when she first arrived. "Sure sucks my photos are gone, but I can take more later." Gon turns to her companions and smiles. "Lucky we realized something was wrong before your phones went kaboom too, ahaha!"

Tonpa feels herself hit by a boulder. She understands now. This child is not just naive, she is completely clueless! Because of the phone cover, Tonpa never noticed how old the model is, so old to have never incorporated modern safety switch features.

Of course this country girl can toss her phone away without a blink. It probably never even occurred to her that you could use phones for anything more than photos or calls!

Sulking, Tonpa trudges away. No, it's fine, at least there is still her first victim.

Noticing Tonpa, Killua waves for her attention. It is not a gesture of distress, however, but one of merriment. "Hey, you're back!"

Tonpa's gaze fall on the charger, still plugged in the wall, the outlet showing signs of a meltdown. Has it… has it been in there this entire time?! Panicked, she turns to the phone in Killua's hand.

Tonpa wants to see rookies broken, not electrocuted. The amount of lawsuits that would be involved and… and prison! She might go to prison, if she is found responsible in a child's death!

As if reading her thoughts, Killua laughs. "Don't worry, it'll take more than a few voltage spikes to hurt me." The battery icon catches her attention. Killua beams. Finally, a hundred percent!

Across the atrium, one applicant toys with a playing card, watching a cocky 99 leave 16 with her burnt charger. Her gaze then falls upon the ditzy, attention-catching 405.

A lick of the lips. This year will be interesting.


	3. Compile x And x Run

Their first proctor is a slender archeologist named Satotz. Proper and upright, she stands before a large scoreboard listing the numbers 1 through 405.

"Has everyone gotten their issued laptop?" She scans each of the applicants to see all monitors on and ready. "Good, then let's begin."

Gon watches curiously as a question appears on her screen.

 **What is your name?**

By the question is a timer, rapidly cycling through the digits down to zero.

"You will have three minutes to answer each question," Satotz explains. "Once the timer reaches zero, the next question will appear and you will lose the ability to answer the previous one."

Gon beams in understanding. She and the others begin typing. A simple print statement should be good. Compile. Run!

One by one, green boxes light up on the scoreboard behind Satotz. "A box will turn green if the correct answer has been given. Otherwise, a box will turn red at the end of the timer. You will need a certain number of green boxes to pass the first stage of this exam."

A hand raises.

"Yes?"

"Excuse me, but how many is that?" Kurapika asks.

"I apologize, but I cannot tell you. You will simply have to answer as many as you can."

Leorio stares at the remaining seconds on the timer, fingers tapping with impatience. When the next question appears, she lowers her shades to read.

 **What is the sum of the minimum path below?**

Heh, easy! She proceeds to write up a loop. Another green box lights up by her number. By the fifth question, she has noticed something peculiar about the scoreboard. No matter how fast she answers, there is always a box that lights up before hers.

Curious, she looks around for the 99 button. It belongs to the kid sitting in front of them, one foot rolling her skateboard in boredom. Leorio cranes her neck and...

"Hey, that's cheating!"

The shout snaps Killua out of her daze. She notices the fuming applicant behind her. "Huh?"

"You're using an IDE!"

Killua blinks at her laptop screen. "Yeah, I downloaded it," she says. "So?"

" _So_ , that's not allowed!"

"You're wrong. The proctor just told us to answer the question. She never said what you can and cannot use."

"Gon! Whose side are you on?" Leorio demands.

Kurapika sighs. "Stop bickering. The next question is about to start."

Killua studies the kid who interjected, the one named Gon. She looks and looks, but her mind cannot categorize the girl.

"Say, how old are you?" she finally asks.

Gon looks up from her laptop. "Me? I'm twelve!"

Killua remains quiet in contemplation. So someone here is her age...

She closes her eyes. "Fine." A tap, and the IDE closes. Killua plops next to Gon and says, "I'll do it the way everyone else is."

Gon beams. "Good!"

"I'm Killua."

"And I'm Gon!"

Killua tilts her head towards Leorio. "What about you, lady?"

"Hey, what's with the lady?! I'm Generation Z, just like you!"

The entire group stops. Leorio is a… teenager?

Gon recovers. "You sure about that?" she asks.

Leorio points aggressively. "What kind of question is that!"

Kurapika furtively distances herself away from the outbursts that ensue.

Across the room, typing has turned more and more frantic. The questions are requiring longer code, the likelihood of mistakes increasing. One bug, and it is over. Red begins to spot the scoreboard.

Kurapika's eyes widen at the red by 403.

When Leorio's number lights up red for the fifth time, Gon and Killua exchange a look, turning to their struggling companion. Three hours have passed thus far, and Leorio is drenched in a cold sweat, her fingers cramped.

Shit, shit, shit. Her hand shakes when another red box appears. Even if it is by a few seconds, she is sure she submitted on time last round.

In front, Satotz's eye glints. By now, all the applicants have realized. These questions are not simply to test one's ability to write mistake-free code. They are to test their ability to write _efficient_ code.

Kurapika reads the next question. A fast coder can type out a brute-force solution in a minute. But the time the computer needs to _run_ such code is at least three hours. She understands now; the only way to pass this stage is to design algorithms that do not pass linearithmic complexity.

How, how is this possible? Nicola watches in despair as her number lights up in red again. She has memorized every computational procedure ever written, all conventions within the realm of textbook and academia. But these questions… they require knowledge beyond those.

Trembling, she stares at the other applicants. Could it be possible these people are devising algorithms on the spot, inventing and reinventing what decades of university research has not managed to find? What kind of monsters are these people?

More red.

Killua sighs, nudging Gon to focus on her own code. There is no helping Leorio. It is clear from the scoreboard that the people who have hit red will continue to hit red. After all, the questions only go up in difficulty.

A roar.

Kurapika jolts. On the scoreboard, 403 has lit up green alongside 404. "Leorio!"

Leorio is still sweating, breathing as if she is in a marathon, but the fire in her eyes has returned. "Like some stupid algorithms are going to stop me from being a hacker!" she spits, fingers grazing across the keyboard.

She lights up green again. Before, she was too anal about proper formatting and style. But as long as she doesn't mind her code being utterly illegible, she can figure out the solution, no problem!

Gon giggles, returning to her own screen. Killua huffs, then smiles as well. Guess she misjudged.

Two lights of green. Gon blinks at the scoreboard. "We're the first ones?"

Beside her, Killua stretches and yawns. If only the timer would be shorter; it is tedious to have to wait another two and a half minutes for every question.

An equally bored Gon turns to Killua. "Say, Killua," she begins. "Why do you want to be a hacker?"

"I don't."

At Gon's questioning look, Killua chuckles, lowering her laptop. "I overheard there is a tough exam today, so I thought it'd fun to sign up. To be honest though, I'm a bit disappointed." She pauses. "And you?"

"My mom is a hacker!"

"Cool. What kind?"

"I have no idea!"

It takes a moment for Killua to recover. She laughs. "You're weird."

The comment has Gon on the defensive. "I am weird? You're the weird one. Why did you come to the city anyway, if not to take the exam?"

Killua freezes. Slowly, she picks up her laptop, both to ready for the next question and to have a weapon on hand. Just in case. "How do you know I'm not from here."

"Isn't it obvious?"

Killua waits.

Gon strokes her chin. Hm, how is she going to put this politely…"You dress like a dork!"

Killua does not react immediately. Then, "Who are you calling a dork, _dork_!"

"You! Only dorks would wear turtlenecks with shorts, ahaha!"

"Says the one who looks like she came out of an anime convention!"

Gon continues to laugh, amused by Killua's increasing fluster. How easy to bait!

"Kidding, kidding! You dress fine. I think. I wouldn't know, fashion confuses me." Gon scratches her head.

Killua stops mid-rampage. She falls back down. "How did you know then?"

Gon points to the ceiling. Killua is greeted by nothing but the sight of a vent. A split-second later, she understands what gives her away.

To prevent all the electronics from overheating, the air conditioning has been cranked up to max. The applicants who brought jackets have all put them on. Those who did not are shivering from the cold.

"When I got here, I realized Franciscosan is filled with interesting microclimates. It's hot, then cold, then hot again. The locals know this, so they wear layers and carry a jacket around at all times. But I assumed Franciscosan would be like the rest of Calida, being all sunny all the time, so I only packed shorts. You made the same mistake as me!"

Gon glances over at some of the shivering applicants, then back at Killua. "I bet your home is somewhere with lots of snow. That's why you're not bothered by the cold, like me."

Killua swallows. Gon is far more perceptive than her appearance suggests, her eyes able to pierce into the truth. Under normal circumstances, Killua would be on alert. She would be trying to hide before anyone uncovers her. Yet, she finds herself leaning forward, wanting to challenge Gon instead, almost dare her to dig deeper and-

"Where exactly would you say I'm from?"

Gon thinks hard. As her eyebrows furrow in concentration, Killua holds her breath. This girl is exceptionally bright. She might actually figure it out, she might realize that Killua is from-

"Whaleconsin!"

A collapse.

"What! No."

"No?"

"No! Why would you think I'm from blasted Whaleconsin?"

Gon gives an innocent tilt of the head. "Because I'm from Whaleconsin."

Killua is about to open her mouth when Gon sheepishly rubs her neck. "Also I don't know any other states, sorry."

Another collapse. This girl may be bright, but at the same time, she's a complete dumbass! Huffing, Killua recomposes herself and returns to typing.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Where are you from, Killua?"

"That's a secret." Killua sticks out her tongue, then smugly grins at the whines that ensue.

.

Satotz checks her watch. It has been six hours now, and equilibrium has been reached. On the scoreboard are unbroken lines of green and red, the applicants who have passed and those who have not.

Two lights. "Ha, first!"

"I was first!"

"No, me!"

Her attention falls on the pair of contentious girls in the back. Satotz smiles. Unlike the other applicants, 405 and 99 remain as energized as ever, the room filled with their rustles and giggling. They seem to have fully enjoyed the experience.

Murmurs erupt when all monitors suddenly shut off. "The first stage has concluded," Satotz says. "Those who have advanced will receive an email with information regarding the next stage." With that, she makes an exit as graceful as her entrance.

Leorio collapses, tugging at her tie. "Phew!"

Disgruntled applicants file for the stairwell or elevator. Kurapika is of the remaining few to check her phone. She taps on the notification of a new email.

Killua notices Gon is empty-handed. "You don't have a phone?"

"I did, but it got zapped."

"Want to check your email on mine?"

"Sure! Gon dot freecss at Huntmail!"

Killua enters the information on the login screen, before presenting the phone to Gon for her password.

Gon reaches out to accept. "Thank y-!" Her hand finds air. Instead, there is a knock against her skull.

"What did you do that for!" a teary-eyed Gon shouts, holding her head.

Killua feels her eye twitch. "One, that's what you get for using Huntmail. Two, are you stupid?"

"Wha-"

"You don't just enter your password on a stranger's phone," Killua scowls, poking Gon in the chest. "Anyone with a keylogger would have just gained access into your email now, if not more! You'd think after losing your phone already, you'd learn to be more cautious about these things."

"Who are you calling stupid, _stupid_!" Gon counters, tiptoeing for height. "I'm not entering my password on a stranger's phone, I'm entering it on _your_ phone!"

The response catches Killua off guard. Gon continues, "I know you didn't offer your phone to hurt me. You offered it to help me." The look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt, as she extends her hand again.

Gon patiently waits. Finally, the phone leaves Killua's hand.

"Thanks!"

Killua stares as Gon drops to the floor, typing away at her phone. Just like how you should never use someone else's device, you should never let someone else use yours. In fact, that is way worse. So why…

"Ah, it's here!"

"Hm?" Killua peeks over Gon's shoulder as she opens the email. They both blink at the contents.

"What the hell is this?!" booms Leorio. Kurapika is rereading her email for the nth time, equally at a loss.

Killua checks her own email and finds the same thing. The subject line looks normal, with a time and location for the next stage. However, the body of the message...

Gon vocalizes the question everyone in the room is asking.

"Why did they send us a recipe?"


	4. A x Hidden x Challenge

_Total Time: 2 hr 45 min_

 _Servings: 16_

 _Ingredients._

 _12 lbs bone-in pork_

 _3 1/2 cups apple juice_

 _6 1/3 tbs brown sugar_

 _5 1/2 tbs Gloucestershire_

 _7 tbs dijon mustard_

 _4 tsp garlic salt_

 _1 tsp pepper_

 _Directions._

 _Preheat oven 350 degrees F. Take pork out of refrigerator. Place pork into roasting pan fitted with rack, fat side up. Season with salt and pepper. Put in oven 1 hour._

 _In saucepan over medium-high heat, bring apple juice to boil 10 minutes. Whisk in brown sugar, Gloucestershire, and mustard. Simmer until thickened._

 _After the pork is roasted, brush on glaze every 15 minutes. Cook until roast reaches internal temperature 150 degrees F, about 2 hours. Remove from oven and coat final layer of glaze. Let pork rest, uncovered, 15 minutes before carving._

 _Serve roasted pork._

.

Everyone stare quizzically at their emails, each with a different recipe included in the body. Kurapika rubs her chin, trying to dissect its meaning.

"Seeing as how the next stage isn't for another twenty-hours, the examiners must be expecting us to prepare the item in the recipe and bring it to the next location," she whispers to Leorio. "If so, we'll need a kitchen."

"Oh, there are rental kitchens in the city. We should hurry though, before they're all booked," Leorio says, a little too loudly.

Kurapika facepalms, as a flood of eavesdropping applicants simultaneously take out their phones, dialing for the nearest kitchen.

While Leorio scrambles to secure them a kitchen, Kurapika focuses on the email again. Something still seems off. What were the proctors thinking, to interrupt a hacking exam with such an irrelevant task.

Hanae claps her hand over her mouth, needing to muffle her giggles. What good fortune! None of them get it!

"What a pain. Think they really expect us to cook?"

"I'm sure you can just buy it."

"But they listed specific ingredients and everything…"

"Maybe we can hire a chef?"

"What the fuck is a croquembouche."

Hanae is choking on her breath, just imagining the poor person who shows up with that. She yelps when all eyes snap to her. Oh snap, they know she knows something! Better ninja out before she reveals too much.

Kurapika watches applicant 294 dart out of the room, expression one of knowing giddy. She holds back a sigh. As she expected, there is a trick.

 _Grumble_.

Everyone turns to Gon, who gives a guilty laugh. "Sorry, all this mention of food is making me hungry."

Leorio exhales, then nudges up her shades. Indeed, they have been coding nonstop for six hours. "Okay, let's grab dinner! Whatever this next stage is, we still have twenty-four hours to figure it out. No need to think on an empty stomach."

"I'll call us an Uper," Kurapika says, inputting their location.

"What do you want to eat, Killua?" Gon asks.

Killua leans back into her arms. "Hm, something filling."

The email gives Gon an idea. "We can do roasted pork!"

"Ooh, I know a great Sinochu restaurant for that," Leorio says. "How about it?"

Gon and Killua exchange looks of excitement. "Yeah!"

.

At the restaurant, Leorio suspends her spoon, watching in disbelief as Gon and Killua wolf down their fifth bowl. Plates empty at alarming speeds, contributing to the pain she feels for her wallet. Why did she offer to treat everyone again? Damn her generosity!

By her side, Kurapika lowers her tea. "Don't worry, I'll help cover the bill."

Leorio gives a nervous chuckle, ignoring the bruising on her ego. Was she that obvious?

"Nhm-hn?"

Gon passes the choy suey. "Hm-n-gm!"

Cheeks full, Killua gives a thumbs up. "Dm!"

Gon swallows. "Welcome!" she says, another piece of meat already in her fork.

They simultaneously raise their bowls for more.

"Say Gon," Leorio says, "is someone coming to pick you up? We're happy to help you make some calls."

Gon lowers her bowl. "Eh? Oh no, I don't have any relatives in Franciscosan. I don't know anyone here, actually. Except for y'all."

Leorio backs up. "You're here alone?!"

Now that Leorio thinks about it, she never did hear Gon's story. The plane ride over, she was too caught up arguing with Kurapika. Gon was just the passenger who had the misfortune of sitting in the middle seat. Sure, an unsupervised child is a rare sight, but Leorio assumed there would be an adult waiting on the other side. She shakes her head. "Where are you staying then?"

Killua slows down her chewing but does not look up from her food.

"The Orenji hostel," Gon answers.

An image flashes across Killua's mind. Interesting. Gon is staying across the street from her.

Leorio seems to recognize the place as well. "In the Porterhouse district?"

"That's the one!"

Kurapika catches the change in Leorio's expression. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah. Porterhouse was notorious for drugs, gang violence, and even contract killing in the 80s. The neighborhood has improved since, but the crime rate is still no joke. Last time I stayed, we had two homicides over the span of a month."

The information has Kurapika in alarm. "What were you doing there?" she asks.

"I was interning at the clinic. Porterhouse also hosts many social services for lower-income families and the homeless. It's complicated." Leorio leans back in her chair. "Anyway, I was sixteen at the time and part of a larger volunteer group. But Gon here, it's way too risky for her to be staying there alone."

Killua considers saying something, but Gon beats her to it.

"Do you know a good place to stay then, Leorio?"

"Hm, have you considered Mariotto? That is where I'm staying. Kurapika too, isn't that right?"

Kurapika nods.

From her pockets, Gon retrieves her wallet. She pops it open. "Mr. Mito gave me ten thousand jenny. Is that enough?"

Next to her, Killua sweatdrops. In a city like this, ten thousand jenny is enough to cover two lunches and a drink. Poor girl will go broke in a day.

Killua is about to make a suggestion when Kurapika says, "I have yet to confirm my booking. If you need a place to stay, Gon, I could upgrade to a double for us. I'd be paying the same anyway."

"Really?"

"If you don't mind sharing a room."

"Not at all!"

Kurapika smiles until she notices the slightly frustrated look from the other girl. "What about you, Killua?"

Killua catches herself. "Oh, don't worry about me," she says with a dismissive wave. "I can take care of myself."

"You should join us at the Mariotto!" Gon suggests cheerfully.

Killua reaches for her drink, mulling the idea over. She supposes she could cancel her current room. It is not as if she left anything important behind.

At the concierge desk, Killua shows Gon her newly-acquired key card.

"We're in adjacent rooms," Gon notes. "How lucky!"

"Well, this is it for me. See ya!" Leorio gives a languid wave of good night. Kurapika sees her off, before turning to the two girls frolicking in the lobby. Killua throws Gon's fishing rod again, clearly aiming for some mischief. Gon is laughing, having tripped over the carpet while on Killua's skateboard.

"Gon. Killua."

"Coming!" they simultaneous state, before turning to each other. "Jinx!"

On the elevator ride up, Gon and Killua hotly contest who owes whom a soda. Kurapika remains quiet, contemplating over the exam. She is rereading the email for clues when Gon notices.

"Oh! I forgot to mention. That's not a recipe."

Kurapika stops. "What do you mean?"

"Err, well, it _is_ a recipe. But not like a recipe in a cookbook."

At their confused looks, Gon sweatdrops. "Y'all never cooked, have you?"

.

Mito pats his hands on a towel. He is reaching for a spatula when the phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Mito!"

"Gon?" Mito hurriedly beckons for his granddad in the living room. "Gon, is that you?"

Gon sits cross-legged on the bed. From the carpet, Killua watches her go from cheerful to frazzled, the booming phone held at arm's width.

"Sorry, Mr. Mito," Gon says, rubbing her neck. "My phone broke yesterday. Then I fell asleep and forgot. Yes, I know. No sir. No sir. Yes sir. Yes, I will. Err..." Gon snaps her eyes shut at the next round of shouts, before peeking open an eye. "Okay."

Mito huffs, shoulders lowered. Honestly, this girl! Nonetheless, he could not help but smile.

He blinks. "Pork roast?"

"Yeah!"

After Gon hangs up, she turns to the rest of the group. "Mr. Mito agrees with me. The recipes are fake. If you try to follow them, you'll get something raw, burnt, or plain inedible."

Kurapika closes her laptop. "You're right. Based on what I gather from recipes online, these ratios are off, even after adjusting for serving size."

A knock on their hotel room door. Killua flips up, unlocking it for Leorio.

"Hey-o, guess who got all the ingredients!" Swaggering in, Leorio holds up the bags upon bags of groceries.

"Marshmallows for you. Here's your mustard, Gon." Items fly, as Leorio digs deeper into her bags. "Man, it took all morning, but I finally found a ChowCo. Prices here are outrageous, you know that? Kurapika, were you the one who needed the balsamic?" she chirps, holding up a bottle of balsamic vinegar.

The rest of the group exchange a look. Someone should tell her...

Two minutes later,

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT FOOD?"


	5. In x Plain x Sight

Buhara glances at the clock. Twelve hours remaining. She wonders how many applicants have figured it out by now, if any. The challenge they pose may be too much.

On the lounge chaise sits Menchi, one leg crossed over the other. As if understanding Buhara's concern, he tosses her his phone. Her expression changes.

"Someone posted this two hours ago," Menchi says.

Buhara smiles at the Quorum page and the question at the top.

 _Source codes that resemble cooking recipes?_ 4 replies.

Grinning, Menchi snatches back his phone. Good to know at least one of them is on the right track.

Satotz has already weeded out the applicants who lack sufficient logic. Those who remain have no difficulties going from A to B, start to finish, premise to conclusion. Point in a direction, and they will follow.

But the Hacker Association is not looking for technicians. Hacking is about identifying problems. Hacking is about finding solutions. Hacking is about cheating. Hacking is about shortcuts.

The page on Menchi's phone disappears, replaced by the notification of an incoming call. Number anonymous.

Curious, Menchi slides the button to answer.

" _Hello, proctor._ "

Menchi's hand shakes in excitement.

Hacking is about getting things _done_.

.

"A program?"

Gon nods. "When I first learned programing, I noticed how a program is like a recipe. Both are just instructions. Only, a recipe tells a cook what to do while a program tells a computer what to do."

Leorio folds her arms. "I don't know, sounds a bit far-fetched."

"No, I think Gon may be onto something," Kurapika says. "We already know we cannot take the recipes at face-value. Considering this is a hacker exam, it is reasonable to expect some computing element. My first instinct had been that we're faced with some decryption-related problem, but without any other clues…" To Gon, she asks, "Was there anything specific in the email that made you think these recipes are programs?"

Gon scratches her head. "It's just a hunch, really."

Leorio remains unconvinced. But with no other leads, she grudgingly unlocks her briefcase. Bags of ingredients sag sadly in the corner. Leorio will never admit this, but a part of her had been looking forward to making zwiebelkuchen.

In the following hours, Leorio and Kurapika are busy at their laptops. Killua lies on the carpet with her phone, while Gon swipes through Kurapika's spare tablet.

They hit dead-end after dead-end. Kurapika thinks hard, before reformulating her question in Uoogre search. Killua remains unblinking, thumb mechanically zigzagging across her phone screen. Leorio types louder. She is ready to burst in frustration when-

"Got it!"

All attention falls on Gon, who flips over the tablet. Everyone crowds around the screen.

"Heapoverflow?" Kurapika asks.

Gon nods cheerfully. "Yeah, I asked the Heapoverflow community if anyone knows anything. Look at the replies!"

They do.

Killua is the first to react, as she falls back laughing. "What do you know, it was esolang all along."

Leorio frowns. She still does not get it. "Esolang?"

"Esoteric programming language," Kurapika explains. "All computer programs are written in a language. There are the general purpose ones that everyone knows, like Lava, A++, and Boa. Then there are specific purpose ones, like Garnet and HPH for web development, or T and VecLab for numerical computation. Whatever the case, languages are typically designed to be clear and concise. They're made to be intuitively easy to understand and good on performance. But theoretically, you can have languages of all forms, which is where esolang comes in."

"Wait, wait, so you're saying people create languages that are intentionally confusing and nonsensical?" Leorio asks, eyebrows raised. "Why?"

"To hide in plain sight."

Everyone turns to Killua, who shrugs. She did not think much of these so-called hackers before, but she is beginning to like them. They're sassy, to email programs to a room full of programmers.

"That must have been the challenge. Can you recognize code if it stared at you right in the face." Killua jerks a thumb to Gon. "And Gon did. Her instinct was on point."

After a moment of silence, Kurapika concedes to her loss. To Gon, she gives a faint smile. "Very impressive."

Gon beams at the compliment. "Thank you!"

"Was your primary discipline PLT by any chance?"

"What's that?"

Kurapika elaborates, and Gon maintains her smile, blinking once or twice. One dump of technical jargon later, Gon is blinking faster. By the time Kurapika has gone heptasyllabic, steam is coming out of Gon's ears.

"... with parametric polymorphism and-"

"Um, um!" Gon extends both palms out. "Sorry, but I don't know… any of that. If you're talking about languages, I, ah, I know Boa. And that's it."

"Boa?"

Gon nods furiously. "Kite always did everything in Boa, so that's what I know."

"What exactly is your experience, Gon?" Killua asks, leaning in curiously. She doubts Gon's childhood is anything like hers, but with that much talent, she must have at least undergone rigorous training in-

"CS 101!"

Everyone collapses.

"CS 101," Killua repeats with a sweatdrop.

"Yeah! School was a bit easy for me, so Mr. Mito allowed me to take online classes at Whaleconsin State University. I took CS 101 and did very well!"

Kurapika twitches. She understands that Gon is young. And any twelve year old girl who places into a college undergraduate course is nothing short of prodigious. But… Ph.D. Kurapika has a ph.D. She swore her life to code, lived and breathed it for years. So to have less insight than a girl who took one introductory course of CS 101... well, that is rather bruising on the ego.

Leorio is internally screaming. An online class? Gon passed first round of the Hacker Exam? After one online class?! Forget bootcamps, whatever this class is, sign her up!

"... and oh yeah, then I learned the loopy stuff, and after that, the in-and-out stuff, and ooh, I really liked the…" Gon falls quiet. Everyone is looking at her strangely. She scratches her cheek. Did she say something wrong?

It takes a while, but Kurapika's brain finally stops short-circuiting. She coughs. Gathering the remains of her dignity, she returns to the tablet screen. Exam. Right, the Hacker Exam. What is important is that they have figured out the mysterious emails and are one step closer to passing the exam.

The people at Heapoverflow prove to be extremely helpful. Not only did they recognize their recipes as esolang, they have identified the exact language.

Gon types them a big thank you. Meanwhile, the rest of the team scours the web. If it is esolang, they will need to find the right interpreter to get the programs running.

Several hours of effort later, symbols after symbols are streaming across Kurapika's command terminal. The screen blackens.

A video pops up. Sitting crossed-legged on a couch is their next proctor, his hair vibrantly dyed, a mesh shirt hugging tight around the muscles down his chest. The lighting in the recording is distinct, and the placards on the wall behind him are more than sufficient hints to his whereabouts.

He ends the video with a smirk. Come to the right location with the right item. He's starving.

The screen returns to normal, with one word at the bottom.

HALIBUT.

All that is left is the real location.

Here, Leorio nudges up her shades. "Leave this to me."

"You can do an IP trace?" Kurapika says, mildly impressed.

Heh, of course not. Leorio asks for the video to be replayed. She points to the background.

"I'd recognize that wall anywhere. He's at Badplaces in the Castrum district! I used to go there all the time!" she proudly exclaims, folding her arms.

Killua whistles at her phone. "A gay bar, huh."

Leorio freezes. Kurapika has averted her gaze, while Gon maintains her smile.

"W-wait, no! You've got it wrong!"

"It's quite alright, your private business is your own," Kurapika says, staring intensely at the wall.

"No, really, it's just a cool place-"

"Mr. Mito taught me God accepts all people."

"I LIKE MEN!"

To Leorio's dismay, all future attempts to convince everyone of her heterosexual preferences remain largely unsuccessful. Meanwhile, Killua excitedly scrolls through more Whelp reviews, not all of which are entirely age-appropriate. She is glad she decided to take this exam. Things are really starting to get fun.

Like, really fun.


	6. Conversation x At x Midnight

"Harder, Killua, you need to pull harder!"

Killua grits her teeth, her foot stomped against the starboard. A tug, and she is almost thrown overboard if not for the arms wrapped around her waist.

Together, they give one final yank of Gon's fishing rod. The surface of the water bursts open. Killua stares in awe at the fish in the air, scales gleaming in all colors against the sunset.

Gon claps her hands in glee.

The two girls step onto the busy piers of Fisherman's Quay, a cooler between them. Leorio and Kurapika return from the marketplace, having gone the more practical route in obtaining their fish.

Once gathered, the group proceeds southwards, away from the ocean and to the inner city.

A bouncer of intimidating presence guards the entrance to Badplaces. Her size is as massive as the door behind her, and no one doubts her ability to toss a full-grown man with one hand.

Lazily, the bouncer glances down at the two twelve-year-old girls smiling sheepishly at her, their cooler popped open to reveal a fresh halibut and trout.

Gon and Killua sigh in relief when the bouncer's expression softens, the door held open for them. After a slap of high-five, the girls lug their cooler inside. Leorio and Kurapika step up in line.

Familiar faces crowd the the bar. Hanae is chatting up the bartender, her cheeks rosy with alcohol. The sister trio are huddled in the lounge while a magician of sorts is stacking up a house of cards. A disgruntled Tonpa shoves her way across the dance floor, a can of beer in each fist.

"Come on, Gon!" Excited, Killua snatches Gon by the wrist, just as the proctor announces that sushi is served.

.

The night is alive. Music blasts, sending the ground in vibrations. Across the floor are movements and screams. Despite this, Leorio is out cold, a half-full cup of sake still in hand. Asleep in the same chaise is Kurapika, head leaned against Leorio's arm.

The back door opens with a metallic groan. Gon peeks out, then beams at the sight of Killua in the alleyway.

Noticing Gon, Killua puts away her phone. "Yo. How's the da-" Killua is interrupted by Gon's face in hers. Gon sniffs again, then giggles.

"You found that vodka after all!"

Killua snorts. "Yeah, but I ended up dumping most of it out."

"I told you it's nasty!"

Nasty or not, Killua still wants to try. She wants to try everything.

Together, they are darting off again in search of something interesting. At the end of the alleyway is an escape ladder. With a mischievous grin, Killua makes a leap for the bottom rung, using her full weight to pull it down. Gon watches in awe at the acrobatic performance and is quick to follow Killua upwards.

"Wow!"

From the neighboring rooftop, they could see the entire district, the city lights and intersecting streets glowing like diamonds. Gon eagerly leans against the edge, and Killua joins her side.

They enjoy the view and the relative quiet. After a while, the thrill is gone, the air between them turning more pensive.

"Hm, Killua?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you… got any parents?"

"Of course."

"What do they do?"

"Government espionage."

"The Unified States government?"

Killua stares at Gon, who is still staring out into the distance, her expression as innocent as her language.

"No, Soviets."

"Oh, that's cool."

Silence.

Then, a burst of laughter. Killua wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh man, you actually believe me!"

Confused, Gon breaks her gaze away from the scenery in favor of her companion. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

What a weirdo, Killua thinks. Still, she finds herself grinning wider and leaning forward. She crosses her legs. "I'm from a family of secret agents. We work for the Комите́т госуда́рственной безопа́сности. Like my parents and siblings, I've been trained since young to infiltrate countries like yours to steal information and corrupt political parties. Sometimes, I even erase people."

Gon knits her brows. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"It is!" Killua gives an exhausted exhale, as she folds her arms behind her head. "You have no idea how much pressure my family puts on me. Also, who wants their entire futures decided for them? One day, I told my parents I had enough. You know how they reacted? They got mad, and my father started crying again, saying potential this, potential that. And suddenly, I'm the villain, always that bad daughter who's tearing the family apart."

Killua has one cheek puffed. "Anyway, long story short, I vandalized the Facepage of my father and leaked nudes of my sister. Then I ran away. If they find me, I'm in a lot of trouble for sure. But hey, after I get a hacker license, I figure I'll just turn them over to the States. Your GIA must be getting desperate; they'd definitely reward me handsomely, ahaha!"

Gon sweatdrops. That is… one way to get out of trouble.

"Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about this Mr. Mito."

Gon visibly brightens at the mention of her uncle. For the rest of the night, they talk, voices high and low, expressions various and full of gasps and giggles. Gon sticks out her tongue, while Killua laughs again, clutching tightly onto her middle. Neither are aware of the happenings inside the bar anymore, too caught up in each other.

.

Leorio snores again, before she jolts at the cold splash on her face. Killua is blinking innocently, as if Leorio can't see the water bottle in her hand.

"Good morning!" Gon greets.

On the opposite side of the bed, Kurapika groans at the noise. Slowly, her eyes open. Then, she bolts upright as well, scanning the unfamiliar hotel room.

"Where am I?" she demands, voice tight. More importantly, why is there a half-naked Leorio under the covers with her.

"Oh, we're in Killua's room," Gon explains. "Y'all fell asleep at the bar, so we carried you back." They tried returning Leorio and Kurapika to their own rooms, but had no clue where to find their key cards. In the end, they gave up and dumped them on the spare bed. Gon hoped they would not mind.

Kurapika looks behind Gon to see the other bed. It is just as rumpled, sheets crooked and feathers all over, clear evidence of an early morning pillow fight.

Killua has her skateboard back under her arm. "You guys should probably get ready. Ferry to the next round of the exam is leaving soon."

At the mention of the exam, both parties immediately scramble out of bed.

Leorio adjusts her tie. "Ferry you say? Do you know where to?"

Killua checks her phone. "Hm, some island with pelicans? Los Alcatraces?"

Kurapika is slipping into her shoe when she notices Leorio's reaction. "You know where that is?"

Leorio does. Apparently, the next stage of their exam is taking place in a maximum security prison.

.

Forty contestants are gathered on the top floor of Alcatraces prison tower. They stand in a circular room with cold stone floors and austere walls. All around are empty hallways, each identical in appearance. The challenge for this round is straightforward.

Leave the tower.

There are confused mumbles until the alarm goes off. One by one, iron-barred gates lower before the opening to each hallway.

"Oh shitfuck!" Leorio is in a sprint towards the nearest hallway, briefcase in tow, before the gate can drop completely.

Killua glides past her with ease. "Gon!"

Gon accepts Killua's extended hand, one foot hopping onto the free space of Killua's skateboard. One duck later, she is rolling off, just as Killua makes a back kick. The skateboard flips in the air, before another kick and it is against the wall, jammed in the space between the floor and the gate.

The gate comes to a groaning halt, leaving just enough space for three more bodies to slide in, each smacking into the previous. Not shortly after, there is a disturbing crack. The skateboard splinters under the stress, spitting in all directions. The gate slams into the ground.

From the security control room, the third proctor leans forward in her chair. On the monitor, frantic contestants are scurrying like flies about the room, in desperate search for any remaining exits. As for the contestants quick-footed enough to escape into one of the halls…

Killua comes to a casual stop before the steel door blocking their path. Well then.

The proctor gives a hawkish grin, her glasses gleaming. It has been a long time since any children has played her games.


	7. High x Or x Low

Two steel doors wait for them at the end of the hallway. On the wall between them is a monitor screen, right above a tray containing a set of five identical smartwatches.

Curious, Gon touches the screen. Immediately, the screen reconfigures.

 **0/5 participant(s) found. Please return with five participants.**

Killua examines the smartwatches. She exchanges a shrug with Gon, before fastening one of them around her wrist. The screen _bling'_ ed.

 **1/5 participant(s) found. Please return with five participants.**

The screen _bling_ 'ed three more times as Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio follow her example. Leorio jumps in surprise when there is a fifth and final _bling_. She has forgotten about their additional companion.

While Leorio eyes Tonpa suspiciously, the other merely waves in an effort to appear as genial and harmless as possible. As soon as Leorio's gaze leaves her, Tonpa grins darkly, rubbing her hands. What a perfect luck, to end up on this team of rookies. It's time to do what she failed to do earlier - crush them! Crush their hearts! Crush their souls! Leave them in such despair that they will feel ill at the mere touch of technology, hohoho!

Leorio's gaze snaps back to her, and Tonpa is waving mildly again.

 **All five participants identified and registered: #16, #99, #403, #404, #405. Welcome to "High or Low". To proceed, please select a door: 0 for High, 1 for Low.**

Everyone looks at their smartwatch and presses one of the two buttons.

When all the responses are in, the same mechanical voice speaks. **You have chosen Low. Please proceed.**

There is a metallic noise behind one of the two doors, like the springing of a heavy bolt. Gon is ready to test the handle again when Leorio speaks up.

"Wait, before we continue, we should say what each of us voted for. I put in one."

"I chose zero," Gon says.

Killua folds her arms behind her head. "Zero for me."

Kurapika closes her eyes. "Zero."

"Also zero."

"Wait, all of you chose zero?" Leorio says, incredulous. "But we're trying to get out. Why would you choose to go higher in that case? You'd want to go low."

Kurapika coughs. "Somehow, I doubt High and Low represent whether we go up or down the tower."

"Why not?"

"Because we're on the top floor," Gon says.

Leorio closes her mouth.

"And you can't go higher," Gon explains as if that is not clear, genuinely trying to be helpful.

While Leorio scratches her head, embarrassed but still clearly confused, Tonpa is practically dancing in glee. Oh wow, is this gold! Not only did this rookie believe High or Low literally meant going higher or going lower, she also seems puzzled as to how the voting system even works, something that should be intuitive to anyone with a CS mindset.

Indeed, the other three have understood immediately. In the absence of information, the proper mode of action is to default to zero, which all three have done. None of them are surprised by the result of the vote either.

Only Leorio remains clueless, as she squints hard at the screen, unable to grasp how four zero votes resulted in an outcome of one. This is perfect; Tonpa will start at the weakest link and cripple her first.

Beyond the steel door is a continuation of the hallway. After countless twists and turns, a new room opens up for them. Gon spins around, in clear awe at the wall to wall of metal shelves and electronics. The machinery around them is alive, blinking and flickering with lights of all colors.

In the center of the room is a table, where a figure is waiting. Judging by her clothes, she is one of the prisoners of the island, a shaven woman watching them with amusement. Prominent scars crown her scalp, a strong and defined jaw complementing the rest of her well-built figure. Her muscles are not superficially sculpted like those of bodybuilders, but optimized for combat and survival, to endure the harshest winters.

Killua immediately recognizes her as an ex-military member, most likely of TNI-AU.

"Welcome," the prisoner greets calmly, "to round one of High or Low. I see you have chosen Low."

"Excuse me, but are you allowed to tell us what that means?" Kurapika asks.

"Sure," the prisoner says. "In the Alcatraces Tower, you must complete five rounds against us. Each round is to assess your technological proficiency in some area of expertise. However, the Hacker Association is aware different individuals have different talents and specializations. As such, it asks for teams of five, of which you may delegate amongst yourselves who completes which round. Furthermore, you need only beat us in three of the five rounds to reach ground level. As a final bonus, you, as a team, may choose high-level or low-level.

"High-level requires higher levels of abstraction and are closer to human thought and action, whereas low-level requires lower levels of abstraction and are closer to machine logic and execution. As computer scientists, I am sure you are all aware of the trade-off between these two and both their constraints on time." The prisoner grins. "The main exit locks at noon tomorrow, giving you a little under twenty-four hours to complete all challenges."

The group exchanges looks with each other.

"You mentioned 'us'," Kurapika says. "Are the rest…?"

"Pardon my manners. My name is Bendot. Yes, I am an inmate here, as are the other challengers. We are also participants in the Hacker Exam, just like you."

"Participants?"

Here, Bendot's smile sharpens, her eyes gleaming. "Yes. The rules for us are a little different, of course. But, if we defeat enough contestants, then we are allowed to claim a spot in the exam and advance to the next stage."

Leorio pales. Prisoners of Alcatraces are some of the most heinous criminals, sentenced on the island for life. But official Hackers operate outside the law, both domestic and international. If any of them gets their hand on a license, they are set free, and possible for good. The amount of destruction they could do…

As if catching onto Leorio's train of thought, Bendot says, "If you dislike the idea, then your best chance is to defeat us here. Now, who will it be?"

Tonpa volunteers.

She is about to approach the table when there comes an objection, as expected.

"Hold up, am I the only who thinks letting her go first is a bad idea?" Leorio points a finger at Tonpa. "No matter how I look at it, she's suspicious!"

Tonpa sneers when only silence follows. No one disagrees with Leorio. Then again, no one agrees with her either.

"Now, now, that's a bit mean, isn't it," Tonpa says, faking hurt. Before Leorio can interject, she adds, "But I can't blame you for being cautious. Still, even if you distrust me, aren't I doing you a favor by going first? That's much better than if I were to go last, when my victory might be a deciding factor?"

Kurapika unwittingly rubs salt on the wound. "I'm fine with her going if that is what she wishes. Besides, all five of us must individually complete one round anyway, correct?" she asks Bendot, who nods. "In that case, I prefer she goes first. It gives the rest of us an opportunity to assess the types of challenges ahead."

Cold, calculating, calm. Kurapika's observation is on-point, and everything in her voice betrays her scientific upbringing. Which, unbeknownst to her, is only widening the rift between her and Leorio.

And as Tonpa predicts, Leorio has her arms crossed, a physical sign of the wall placed between her and the rest of the group.

Tonpa can tell the type of person Leorio is by her clothes alone, how she primarily comes from the business industry, not technology. Leorio is raised in a culture that emphasizes people and soft skills. For her, it is all about communication and teamwork. As such, she keeps asking questions. She wants to be on the same page as everyone else. She is also looking for validation, so when her opinions and concerns - which are meant to be in the best interest of the team - are repeatedly unacknowledged or shut down, she feels personally attacked.

Unfortunately for her, her teammates are unaware of any of this. They are clearly used to working solo and figuring things out on their own. They also assume everyone else has automatically figured out the same things they have, and keep their eyes on the objective, not on the people surrounding them. They are unlikely to take things personally, and don't see disagreement with an idea as rejection or disapproval of the person expressing them.

If this gap in culture and personality is not mended, not only will they fail this stage of the exam, their friendship will dissolve as well. And that would make Tonpa very, very happy, as she saunters to the center of the room.

Her smartwatch sounds, as she is registered into the system. Once seated, she waves pleasantly at Bendot.

"So, what am I facing?"

Bendot looks down at the plump little woman. The machinery around them continues to whirl and flicker.

"Big data," Bendot says. All 100 petabytes of it.


	8. Just x Another x Techbitch

If Gon remembers Kite's lessons correctly, there are 1,000 kilobytes in a megabyte, 1,000 megabytes in a gigabyte, 1,000 gigabytes in a terabyte, and 1,000 terabytes in petabyte. That means a petabyte has…

Gon's brain fumes.

… lots and lots of bytes!

Kurapika glances at the walls of machinery. It is said all words to have ever been written since the beginning of mankind, in all possible languages, is approximately one hundred petabytes of information. Manipulation of data of that size is not impossible, but to do so within the time frame of their exam, will be challenging.

Over the following hours, Tonpa sits in front of monitor, occasionally clicking and typing away at the keyboard. The remaining four are forced to remain at the peripheries of the room; the smartwatch on their wrist will beep if they get too close. The distance is just frustratingly far enough that they cannot see the details of the screen.

Leorio checks her watch again. Four hours have passed. Kurapika has taken a seat against one of the metal shelves, her eyes closed in mediation. Gon and Killua are also on the floor, in the middle of a hot hands game. Besides the hum of machinery, the only sounds are their occasional giggles.

Wait a minute…

Leorio's gaze snaps to the center table. Tonpa is still seated there, her back turned. Only, the mouse remains in the same position as before, the keyboard untouched. Leorio squints and...

"Is she sleeping?!"

Tonpa jolts up, wiping a trail of drool from her lips. "Hm, what, no, of course not."

"Don't lie!" Leorio accuses, pointing a finger. "Even your monitor is asleep!"

Tonpa blinks at the blank screen. "No," she drawls, "I was just… thinking. It's a hard problem this woman tasked me with, you know."

Leorio looks like a tomato ready to burst, but Tonpa tunes her out. She steals a glance at her smartwatch and smirks.

The day drags on, turning from evening to night. Leorio is yelling again. She wants Tonpa to divulge the details of her task; if she is stuck, the rest of the group may be able to brainstorm a solution together. Bendot has even confirmed that group collaboration is not against the rules, so long as they do not step into the inner circle of the room. However, no matter what Leorio says, Tonpa waves her off dismissively, saying how she's got it, how she's close to completion.

Finally, someone sides with Leorio.

Killua has appeared by her side, hands deep in her pockets. "You're right," she says. "We've lost too much time."

It is already ten o'clock; that leaves them with less than fourteen hours to reach the bottom floor. Which is not really a problem, except for the fact that Killua is bored out of her mind. Gon is too sleepy for any more games, and without her, Killua has no more reason to stay.

"Yes, thank you, someone who finally sees sense," Leorio exclaims. "Please help me convince her to talk to us!"

Killua spares a glance at Tonpa. "That won't help."

"Wha-"

Overhearing their conversation, Tonpa smirks. The kid is right. It does not matter how much noise they make, she is in charge of this round. And she plans to squeeze their remaining time dry. She will indulge in their increasing panic and desperation. She will-

A whistle. "Minesweeper, huh."

Tonpa is frozen, as the voice behind her casually continues, "So that's what you've been doing all this time." Killua tilts her head at the little black bomb on the screen. "Hm, looks like you've lost. No more reason to stay here then?"

Across the table, Bendot sits just as stiffly. No footsteps. Not even a shift of shadow. It takes a lot to catch her off guard, much less leave her unhinged. Even the smartwatch reacts belatedly, jumping from no noise to hyperfast beeps. Bendot stares at the flickering red, then at the wearer.

"You stepped inside the boundary." A bead of sweat runs down her neck. "I'm afraid to say your team is disqualified from this match."

Deep blue eyes stare back. "Don't be. Tonpa here was just about to forfeit anyway. Isn't that right, Tonpa?" Killua laughs, lightheartedly patting Tonpa on the back.

Tonpa comes around from her shock. "Y-yeah."

An earful awaits them on the way back.

"Minesweeper? _MINESWEEPER_?" Leorio is near hysterical. "Admit it, you're just here to sabotage our chances!"

There is no doubt in Leorio's voice. Tonpa decides the charade has gone on long enough anyway. "So what if I am?"

"YOU-!"

Leorio stops when she sees the other is unfazed. Leorio does not understand. Sabotaging fellow contestants for the sake of thinning the competition, that she can understand. She knows what it means to be cut-throat. She has seen human greed. But sabotaging your own chances?

As if reading her mind, Tonpa sneers, "You're assuming I _want_ to pass this exam." She doesn't.

Maybe there used to be a time she did. But that, like many things, is decades buried in the past.

.

City of Asdall. A ten year old girl was dashing through a railroad tunnel with her oversized, rundown satchel. She had been of the mere 0.01 percent to find it, the secret location of the prestigious Hacker Exam. The very fact gave her immense pride. Out there, she was a loser, a nobody. But here, one hundred feet underground, she was a _star_. Other participants warmed up to her immediately, filled with admiration and awe when they learned what she could do.

" _Malo, Liven, check her out!_ "

" _No way, is that true? You're the developer of puDDy? But you're so young!_ "

" _Hey, want to join our team? We could use someone like you_."

In that underground tunnel, she talked more in one hour than in her whole life, smiled until her cheeks ached. She came in for a license, but she left with friends and a family, the people who would journey alongside her in pursuit of their dreams.

For Tonpa, hacking was more than just a hobby. It was her life. It brought her joy. Of purpose. Of _belonging_. Year after year, she escaped to take the Exam. And undiscouraged by her failed attempts, she continued to learn, to improve. Every breathing moment, she was studying - under the dinner table, behind her textbooks, inside her cubicle. Volumes of research journals piled under her bed, threatening to spill her secrets to the world. The amount of knowledge needed to pass such a legendary exam was seemingly infinite, but so was her dedication.

It would only be a matter of time until she passed.

It would only be a matter of time.

" _Looks like it's just us this year, Tonpa._ "

But with time came change. Even when Tonpa refused to change, the world around her did. The people she looked to as family would slowly leave her side. Some lost passion. Others sold out. Two got arrested. One committed suicide. A few got married. Moved to the suburbs. Settled down with kids.

One by one, their dreams blew out like the flame of a candle. All their lights extinguished until only hers was left, alone in the dark.

Tonpa entered the newest location of the latest exam. Though crowded and rowdy as always, filled with enthusiastic chatter by enthusiastic participants, it felt more cold. More lonely. She noticed a young girl by herself in the corner, struggling with her phone.

" _Nonono… damn it!_ " The girl was pulling at her hair until noticed the dangling charger.

" _Need a charge?_ "

" _Oh my god, thank you! You've saved my life. I can't believe I left mine at home, so stupid!_ "

Tonpa plopped down. " _No worries, it's a common rookie mistake. I've seen it happen to at least one or two contestants every time_."

" _You've taken this exam a lot?_ "

" _Yup, for twenty years now, in fact. I guess you can call me a veteran!"_ Tonpa laughed.

" _Twenty years? Wow, that's… excessive._ " Their conversation dragged, the air between the awkward. " _So, um, where do you work?_ "

Tonpa explained her job in supply-chain management, for some dull corporation invested in even duller products. The salary was mediocre but paid the bills, the work banal but light enough for Tonpa devote the most of her time to preparing for the next Hacker Exam. The more she talked, the less the girl listened, her smile polite but her eyes hollow.

Tonpa could not blame her; she sounded boring even to her own ears. That was fine. She would have much more interesting stories once she became an official hacker. Tonpa had a good feeling about this year.

Her intuition was not wrong. Two of the proctors went easy on them, and one was plain lazy. In a final stroke of luck, the last stage was within Tonpa's realm of expertise, as she successfully exploited a backdoor in the system's design. This was it! Victory was theirs! She could not run fast enough to tell her teammates.

" _... I know, right? And she keeps saying she's done this for twenty years, like it's something to be proud of?_ "

" _Also, Windglows is so dead. Seriously grandma, no one cares about what you did for it back in the day._ "

" _Forget the OS, let's talk about that browser! I mean, who still uses Internet Adventurer?!"_

Their laughs sounded no different from those Tonpa once shared with her family. Just happy and blissful. A bunch of teenagers and young adults having a good time.

They noticed her on their way out of the bathroom. " _Oh hey! Thanks again for the chargers, Tonpa. Really saved us there._ "

There was not a hint of shame in their voice as they walked past, all young and slender, matching in their language and gestures and fashion. There was no room for someone like Tonpa in their circle.

Still, Tonpa did not mind. All that mattered was that she could finally become a hacker, that she could finally obtain her dream...

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

With time came change. In the place of a ten-year-old girl was some big-nosed stranger with porous skin and a giant round belly. The only thing that remained the same was the smile, rosy and bursting at the cheeks.

 _Seriously grandma, no one cares about what you did for it back in the day._

She could finally obtain her dream.

 _No one cares._

Tonpa stared at the smile still stuck on her face.

For the first time, she let it fall.

Over the years, Tonpa had watched many dreams extinguish because of the Exam. She paid so much attention to that, she never noticed when her own dream had died.

Even then, her intuition had not been wrong. This exam was it. This was the year her life finally moved forward. The year she would smile again and smile genuinely.

It began when she watched the firewall burn her teammates alive. When their expression slowly changed from beaming self-assurance to shaking panic. They no longer laughed together but yelled separately, their words loaded, their fingers pointed at everyone except themselves. When time ran out, everyone was huddled on the floor except Tonpa. Everyone was crying except Tonpa, who quietly collected her bag and left, to prepare for the next Hacker Exam, as she had done for the past twenty years.

The Hacker Exam is truly something remarkable. Its promises of wealth, prestige, and privilege never fails to lures newcomers en masse. Thick-framed glasses. Laptop tucked under one arm. A chai tea latte in hand. A hoodie open to showcase a set of heavy headphones around the neck and some logo'ed t-shirt. Skinny jeans or plaid, maybe both. Over time, they all begin to look the same. Speak the same. Think the same. And the most common thought of all...

I am special.

I will pass this exam, and I will pass on my first try.

Because all their lives, they have always been top of the class, number one in academia, their walls decorated with the latin of some degree of the highest honor.

Or maybe because they are at the head of industry, their wallets loaded by the success of their glamorous multi-billion start-up idea.

Or maybe they are just children, sheltered and isolated from the rest of the world, a big fish in a small pond, as their parents remind them day after day how talented they are, how they make them so proud.

They are special. Different. _Better_.

And to see all that confidence, all that entitlement, all that self-congratulatory, self-righteous pride _shoved up their pampered tush_ … there is a reason Tonpa keeps taking the Exam.

"You rookies always think you're going to be the next big hacker," Tonpa says, buffing her nails. "But you know what the world really sees you as?"

What's that word again? Oh right.

A techbitch.


End file.
